


Sleeping In

by LadyLuckOfMine



Series: Burn This World [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Mentions of Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLuckOfMine/pseuds/LadyLuckOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It didn’t feel real. Any of it. Alris always looked at him with hatred and anger, but both had been absent when Dorian had caught him staring. In fact, he dared to say there had been wonder in the elf’s eyes, but he didn’t want to think about what that would mean. He didn’t want to think about how Alris had been looking at him as if… As if Alris didn’t actually hate him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping In

Alris didn’t like Dorian. Dorian didn’t like Alris. They didn’t like each other, and they both knew this and respected it. There was no need for anything else than putting up with one another for short periods of time. Short periods of time which, on occasion, wound up with the both of them naked and rutting together like halla in heat. Still, they didn’t like each other.

Every morning after, Alris or Dorian would wake alone, one of them having snuck out during the night. It was an unspoken rule. If they managed to make it to Dorian’s room, then it was up to Alris to sneak back to his own quarters, and vice versa. It kept things simple, and less awkward. There hadn’t been an occurrence yet where either of them failed to do so. Dorian wasn’t sure what would happen. Alris would have most likely kicked him out, naked as the day he was born, or find some way to torture him, whether it had been his turn or not.

After all the sheets were crumpled and soaked with sweat and other body fluids, one of them had to leave. Even if Dorian wanted nothing more than to steal the Inquisitor’s downy mattress (which Alris didn’t even appreciate, often choosing to sleep on the balcony instead), he would slip away into the night once everything was said and done. This wasn’t a new game for either of them. They both had plenty of experience in ditching a lover after everyone’s needs were satisfied. It was just how things were done.

Someday, Dorian had often told himself when sneaking out or waking to an empty bed, he would find someone who would stay, who would beg him to stay. It went against everything he had been taught, everything he had experienced. He didn’t care. It was a fantasy at best to make him overlook how horrid he felt about the after events of the trysts he had with the Inquisitor. A man who hated his guts and made it very evident in and out of the bedroom.

What they were doing… It probably wasn’t healthy. A bad habit, to seek out pleasure in the arms of the other. It would only end in pain. Not that they didn’t habitually hurt one another during the maddened sessions of frantic lust and supressed negative emotions. Alris had bitten Dorian’s shoulder bad enough that the man had required stitches afterwards. In kind, Dorian had wound up almost biting the elf’s cock off. It was very much a give and take situation, and a wonder either of them had survived this long.

Still, they kept coming back to each other, generally after a long day trading barbed insults and sneering at each other. They were both everything the other was supposed to hate. A Tevinter Altus shem, a Dalish elf, two mortal enemies who had somehow found a way to release tensions through sex before they killed one another. Not that Dorian ever could kill Alris. Alris was an important man, and possibly the only one who could save the world, and Dorian was essentially nothing more than a toy that could be discarded at any time. No one in the Inquisition fully trusted Dorian. He didn’t have friends here. No one was willing to even speak civilly with the evil Tevinter Magister who was quite obviously fucking or being fucked by their precious Herald of Andraste.

Which had been the case the night prior. The letter from his father had came, and in a shocking display of decency, Alris had even hand delivered it to him. Not without some barbed comments, or what seemed to be pleasure at the idea of Dorian being knocked over the head and dragged back to Tevinter. Of course, Dorian had made note of that, calling Alris out on it. How kind of the man to want to send Dorian back to Tevinter against his will. Then, one thing had lead to another, and after making sure they were prepared to go meet with the family retainer, Dorian found himself up in the Inquisitor’s quarters. There, he was sure he had been fucked within an inch of his life.

A rather fitting distraction, seeing as to what awaited him in Redcliffe.

Alris had done a wonderful job of helping Dorian forget about the impending doom of actually meeting the retainer, and with the elf thrusting into him so frantically, Dorian had been almost able to forget that Alris would turn him over without a second thought.

For just a moment, Dorian had found himself able to close his eyes and believe that he had a lover who actually cared for him, and a family who didn’t hate him for what he was. It would have been so easy to just pretend that they were just releasing pent up sexual frustration from being apart for so long.

It hadn’t hit him until much later how horrifying it was that he could think of the elf as a lover, somewhere between the second and third round.

Dorian didn’t actually remember falling asleep.

It was the soft rays of morning sun landing on his face that eventually woke him. A low groan clawed its way out of him and he shifted his position slightly. His eyes felt too heavy to open, and he was deliciously sore from the night’s activities, swathed in a thick comforter against the early morning chill. It was too comfortable for him to actually want to get up and out of bed, and he really regretted not getting curtains for his room sooner.

Dorian had to pull the cover over his face to block out the sunlight. For a moment, he was back in a comfortable darkness, and on the verge of dozing off again when something pulled the comforter down.

He didn’t remember making it back to his room either. The room also had no windows that faced the rising sun, which was why he hadn’t requested curtains right away.

Oh.

Dorian had to force himself to breath slowly and evenly as realization and horror struck him. He was still in Alris’ room, cuddled up in Alris’ comforter, and on Alris’ very soft bed, and Alris was very much awake.

In the past, Dorian had never missed a chance to sneak away, save for a few times when he had been allowed to pleasure of a past lover to spend the night. In his youth, when he had first laid with another man, he had made the mistake of overstaying his welcome, and the man who had been so kind at first, had made it into a humiliating experience for Dorian. What Alris would do made Dorian want to shudder in fear. The elf had a twisted sense of humour, and it really wouldn’t surprise Dorian if he was put on trial for this, in front of the entire population of Skyhold and any important guests who were around.

He knew the ruse wasn’t working. Dorian knew that. Alris had an uncanny ability to tell when someone was or wasn’t sleeping. How? Dorian could only guess. Maybe the elf had the ability to hear a person’s heartbeat if it was quiet enough. Did heartbeats change when one was asleep? Dorian didn’t have much experience with living hearts to know for sure.

The elf respected bravery though, even if it was foolish. It might have ensured him a better response if he just gave up and met his fate. Ripping the bandage off quickly, or so to speak. Maybe Alris would go easier on him?

Slowly, opening one eye enough to see through his lashes, Dorian was met with the view of a strong abdomen. The dark flesh was marred with a storm of scars, some small, and some terrifyingly large. Dorian was familiar with some of them from seeing the wounds inflicted on the elf. Others he was familiar with from explorations in the dead of night. In the early morning night, it was all the more impressive. Or worrisome, judging by the way Dorian’s stomach rolled looking at them. What had Alris done to receive them all?

Gathering his courage, Dorian began the visual trek up to the elf’s face. His breath caught in his chest when he saw Alris looking at him, some unspeakable emotion hidden in the depths of his violet eyes. Eyes which widened slightly when Alris realized he had been caught staring.

It didn’t feel real. Any of it. Alris always looked at him with hatred and anger, but both had been absent when Dorian had caught him staring. In fact, he dared to say there had been wonder in the elf’s eyes, but he didn’t want to think about what that would mean. He didn’t want to think about how Alris had been looking at him as if… As if Alris didn’t actually hate him.

But now, they were staring at each other, and Dorian opened both eyes fully. Not a word passed between them, and Dorian had no idea how long they held each other’s gaze.

“Morning,” Alris finally said, breaking the silence. Dorian blinked, before shrinking away when the elf moved. He froze when Alris’ ears perked at the movement, and another expression passed over his face, almost like… sadness? It was too early to be analyzing anything, he decided. Obviously, he couldn’t trust his own eyes.

Alris slid out of bed, and Dorian watched as the elf walked to the fine elm chest that held what little clothing the elf wore. There was another period of silence between them as Alris dressed, pulling on a pair of trousers and a simple tunic, before looking back at Dorian.

“Come down when you want. We will leave when you are ready.” With that, Alris disappeared down the stairs of his room, and it wasn’t until Dorian heard the door open and close that he sat up. The comforter pooled around his waist, and the air was chilly, biting against exposed flesh.

That was… Dorian wasn’t sure what that had been. He didn’t know what had happened, or what would happen. He should be worrying about meeting the retainer, but in the pit of his belly, he knew he would be worrying about what had happened.

He shouldn’t have fallen asleep.

He also shouldn’t have curled back up, burying his face in Alris’ pillow, and gone back to sleep.

When Dorian woke again, there was a tray of food set out for him, finer than anything he got during communal breakfasts, and too cooked for Alris to ever eat.

Dorian really hated how that made him smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Alris is a very early riser, so I like to think that he is always blown away by how utterly beautiful Dorian looks in the early morning light.


End file.
